


When You Meet a Stranger

by runningsissors



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, EWE, F/M, Hogwarts Era, Second Wizarding War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 06:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18685597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningsissors/pseuds/runningsissors
Summary: "Something inside of her had changed that night in the Hospital Wing, as Harry had told them all Malfoy’s terrible story. He was a boy - a boy trying desperately to save his family. She could understand that - could almost even respect that under different circumstances."





	When You Meet a Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the dgficexchange @ livejournal in 2012. Recovered as I was cleaning out my dropbox.

She took the stairs two at a time as she hurried to the fifth floor. She hated being her mum’s messenger and carrier, but with the wedding tomorrow it was all she could do to keep her mum off her back.

 

 

So instead of a grumble and a snotty comment about how she might as well be fed a dead mouse for dinner like Errol and Pig, she simply nodded when her mum called for her to get Ron, Harry and Hermione for dinner. Even though it was well known that Ginny was avoiding Harry like a fleshing eating fungus (apart from that snog which was such a stupid idea, she can’t even believe she did that).

 

 

She could hear her brother’s voice, oblivious to the fact that someone might be listening in.

 

 

“...but it’s _Malfoy_ , Harry. He’s a smarmy git-faced Death Eater! I know what was happening to him was bloody rotten, but how can you ignore all the shite things he did?”

  

 

She couldn’t deny she’d found her thoughts falling on Draco Malfoy quite a bit this summer as well. Something inside of her had changed that night in the Hospital Wing, as Harry had told them all Malfoy’s terrible story. He was a boy - a boy trying desperately to save his family. She could understand that - could almost even respect that under different circumstances. She never thought she’d see the day where she looked at Malfoy with anything other than absolute distaste, but then again, after that night so many things had changed.

  

 

“I would have done it, too,” Harry said, breaking her from her spiralling thoughts. “As much as we all want to rage about how evil Malfoy is, I would have done the same things if I had been in his situation last year. If it meant keeping the people I love most safe, I would have done it.”

  

 

“You’re not a killer, Harry.” She could hear Hermione add.

 

  

“Yeah, well I’ll have to be won’t I? I’ve got to kill Voldemort before he kills me.” 

 

 

Not wanting to hear anymore, she stomped her feet on the stairs, warning them of her arrival.

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

She was leaving her History of Magic class when a small girl ran into her. Both their books fell to the ground, and the little girl, obviously a first year, choked out an apology as she scrambled for her books.

 

  

“That’s all right,” Ginny said with a grin, bending down to help. The girl’s hands were trembling uncontrollably as she reached for her potions textbook and when she glanced up at Ginny, she could tell something was immediately wrong. Ginny looked up, scanning the corridor and noticed other first years pooling out of the Dark Arts classroom, all with similar looking expressions of sheer fright.

 

 

“Did something happen in Professor Carrow’s class?” She asked softly, looking back at the girl and trying as hard as she could to hide the rage quickly filling her body.

 

 

The girl’s lip quivered as tears began to trickle down her round cheeks. “It- it was awful,” she whimpered, “he – he put a curse on this poor little gnome, and it was screaming out, begging him to stop, but...” she finally broke down, her sniffles turning into sobs, “he just kept going. The gnome was in so much pain, and he- he just kept smiling.”

 

 

She reached out, taking one of the girl’s hands in her own. “It’s okay,” she said again, “You’ll be okay.”

 

 

“What is this?” a cold, sneering voice spat. Ginny recognized the voice right away. School had only been in session for two weeks, and already Ginny had served seven detentions with Amycus Carrow.

  

 

“Get up, you pathetic little wibbling worm.” He hollered now at the girl. “Your crying is completely intolerable. Clearly, I’ll need to teach you to respect t-”

 

 

“Sir,” Ginny snapped, getting between the girl and Carrow, “she’s only eleven. You can’t possibly give someone detention for crying; that’s ridiculous.”

 

 

Carrow’s cold, pale eyes narrowed. “I’ve had more than enough of you, Weasley.” He snarled, “You and your disgusting blood trai—”

  

 

“Professor Carrow,” a cool smooth voice called behind her, “The Headmaster wants you in his office immediately.”

 

  

Carrow’s eyes were mere slits now as he gave both Ginny and the first year girl a hard glare, before stocking off towards the second floor. As soon as Carrow was out of earshot, she spun around to find Draco Malfoy staring at her with a severe expression.

 

  

“I suggest you get her and yourself out of here before he returns.” Malfoy snapped, eyeing the upset first year. “I won’t help you again if he catches you.”

 

 

Ginny simply stared at him for a moment, completely at a loss of what to say, before she nodded and bent to gather her scattered books. Without another word he left, and unable to help herself she watched him in bewilderment as he headed towards the ground floor.

 

  

Did Draco Malfoy just save her?

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

She stumbled into the common room with a heavy groan.  Gryffindor Tower had become somewhat of a sanctuary – a place where the Carrows cackles and stinging wand work couldn’t reach her. Her shoulders were still aching from her detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest two days ago, but she would never admit it. Trying to steal the sword had been foolish - even she could see that now. She was honestly in shock that she was still alive at this point, much less still enrolled at the school. 

  

 

“Hey, Ginny,” Jimmy Peakes called in a tried, but pleasant voice. She smiled warily, slumping down into the chair across from him and sighing deeply. The table was covered in glossy photographs, some which waved and smiled back at her, while other’s lay utterly still.

  

 

She picked a pile up, grinning as she flipped through them. “Where did you get these?” She asked, passing over a picture of Dennis Creevey by the Lake.

 

  

Jimmy gave a small grin, staking another pile. “Colin sent them to me over the summer, and I thought I’d lay them out for people to see-” he frowned now, “you know, seeing as Col isn’t here to show them off.”

  

 

She nodded. Yes, the School had become quite empty with all the muggle-born students getting expelled. She’d never realized just how many muggle-born wizard and witches there were in the world until she looked around the Great Hall on the first feast and noticed all the empty seats.

 

  

She paused on a photo of her and Ron making weird faces at each other before dissolving into laughter and felt her eyes sting with hot tears. She missed them all to pieces, but it was especially hard being without Ron. Quickly, blinking back her tears, she flipped to the next picture, and immediately felt her stomach drop. It was a muggle snapshot of a corridor in the west wing — just a simple picture of students walking by, nothing overly special. Except for the bright eyes that were glaring back at her. Her thumb gently ran over the dark circles under them, almost like she could wipe them away. Obviously, he’d been caught off guard; leg stretched ahead of him in mid-stride with his robes unclasped - his once perfectly coiffed hair, now loose with strands brushing his brow. 

 

 

“H-hey, Jim,” she asked, voice feeling lodged in her throat. “Do you think I could take this?” She quickly held up the picture of her and Ron, hiding the muggle one behind it.

 

 

He smiled, “Yeah, go ahead. I thought I’d leave them out for people to pick through anyway.”

 

  

She thanked him, hurrying from the common room and up to her dormitory. She could already feel her cheeks flushing as she flopped down onto her bed.

 

 

Taking an interest in Draco Malfoy’s character was one thing, but taking an interest in him romantically was a whole other Quidditch game Ginny just didn’t want to think about. It had been almost a month since that incident on the first floor with Amycus Carrow, but she couldn’t seem to get Malfoy out of her head. She brought the muggle picture to her face again and focused on Malfoy. She had watched him at almost every meal. She saw the way he kept his head down, only adding to the conversation around him when directly addressed. While it was apparent he was still a part of what Neville liked to call the “Elite Group,” he was no longer the center of attention like she’d grown accustomed to all these years.

 

  

But that wasn’t the only time Ginny had found herself staring at Malfoy. She’d go out of her way to pass him in the corridors so that she could see his shiny silver blonde head as he pushed his way through crowds of students much shorter than him. Her heart would thud in her chest, and her palms would become so wet with sweat that her textbooks would slip from her grasp. She always felt disoriented, like as if the world had been pushed on its axis.

 

 

He was arrogant, snide and pompous. The way his lips always snarled and sneered showed that he wanted to push people away, to hurt them and make them feel stupid. She didn’t like him. She couldn’t.

 

 

 

 

 

 +

 

 

 

 

“This is so bloody pointless,” Ginny hissed, looking back down at her open Divination textbook for the umpteenth time. “I’m sorry, Luna, but I can’t read shite on your palm. All I see is lines. This is why I preferred Firenze’s class. All we had to do was lie on the ground and look at smoke and stars.”

 

  

Luna smiled dreamily at her, “I thought the reason you preferred Firenze was that he’s so very handsome.” she said, flexing each of her fingers. Ginny blushed, feeling slightly flustered and looked down at her book one last time before giving up. “Moon Frog slime has the tendency to sink into crevices of the skin, so I’m not surprised you can’t interpret my palm lines. Let me try yours instead.” Luna gently took Ginny hand in her own, turning her palm to the ceiling. 

 

  

“Luna,” Ginny began hesitantly. She would never bring this up with her other friends, but she knew with Luna it was different. “Wh- what do you think of Draco Malfoy?”

 

  

“The blonde boy who’s father hexed me at the Ministry? Well, he’s not very nice is he?”

 

  

“No,” Ginny said, lowering her voice so she couldn’t be overheard. “I mean what do you think of him, just by looking at him. Without knowing anything about him.”

 

 

“Oh,” Luna said, head tilting to the side in thought, “He reminds me of ice formations, like the ones I saw in Greenland with Daddy while we were looking for Umgubular Slashkilters. Lots of long sharp angles and such. Although, the ice formations didn’t look quite as sad as he does. You like the way he looks though, don’t you?”

  

 

Ginny flushed, “Why would you think that?” Stupid Ginny, she should have remembered how clever and perceptive Luna was.

 

  

“You’re always looking at him. Neville says you’re just keeping an eye on him because he’s a slick git, but I said it was because you find him attractive.”

 

 

Ginny gave her an outrageous look, “I do not fancy Malfoy!” She cried rather loudly, darting her head down as few classmates through glances their way. “He’s vile.” She hissed, telling herself this more than Luna. 

  

 

At that moment Professor Trelawney came swooping down, her long string of beads slapping against the back of Ginny head, as she peered over her. “How goes it my dears?” her misty voice making Ginny bite back her words as Trelawney’s beads met her head once again.

  

 

“I was just analyzing Ginny’s heart line,” Luna said, blinking up their Divination teacher. “It seems full if her past boyfriends are any indication.”

  

 

“Luna!” Ginny gasped, flushing right to her toes as Trelawney made a tutting noise behind her.

 

  

“Yes, well,” she sighed in her ever ethereal voice, “the sign of red hair is hazardous in love. Far too temperamental and reckless to make lasting companions. Much too dangerous to love.” Ginny glowered, her hands fisting at her sides to keep her from flying off the handle of her broom.

 

 

Luna simply smiled at her. “I think that’s a perfect explanation of you, Ginny.”

 

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

“I think it all came out brilliantly,” Neville whispered as the hurried back up the stairs to the Seventh Floor. “Just imagine the look on old Snape’s slimy face when he sees all the walls tomorrow morning.”

 

 

Ginny smiled, “I’m more excited about the she-Carrow’s shrill little voice screaming when she reads what I wrote outside her classroom.”  She’d written every muggle word she could think of on the walls outside Alecto Carrow’s Muggle Studies classroom. “Maybe we’ll hear it tomorrow at brea-”

 

 

She broke off mid-sentence when Neville grabbed her arm sharply, making her stop her movements.

 

  

“There’s wand light coming down that left side passage,” he whispered so softly Ginny could barely hear him. Her heart began to race. If it were a Prefect, then she’d deal, but anyone else and she and Neville were as good as dead.

 

 

“Quick,” Ginny hissed. “I’ll go this way to create a distraction, and you head up to the tower.”

 

 

“Absolutely not,” Neville said like it was the most outrageous thing she’d ever said to him. “I’m not going to leave you all on your own. Harry and Ron would kill me if anything happened to you.”

 

 

She felt a mutinous anger surge through her at that. Who gave a flying Hippogriff what Harry and Ron thought. She could easily take care of herself and didn’t care what her stupid brother or ex-boyfriend said. “Don’t be daft, Neville. You know the Carrows are just itching to find reasons to get you into detention again. You go back - I’ll create a diversion.” Everyone knew that the Carrows were targeting Neville with the Cruciatus Curse whenever they possibly could because of his parents. It made her sick to even think about it.

 

 

Neville looked like he was about to say something, but Ginny shot him a look generally reserved for the twins or Ron, and he quickly changed his mind. With one final anxious glance over his shoulder, he hurried up the steps. Once he was far enough away, Ginny sprinted down the connecting stairs going back to the fourth floor.

 

 

She could hear footsteps approaching behind her and quickly her mind started to scramble for an excuse. She could say she had a stomach ache and was headed down to the Hospital Wing for some tonic. But then what about being in her school robes still?

 

  

“You might as well stop running now because I don’t feel like jinxing you,” a tired voice snapped behind her.

  

 

Ginny slowed down, heart still racing, but for a mix of reasons now.

 

 

“You can’t jinx me, Malfoy.” She retorted, hands clutching the railing as she spun around to meet him. “My Bat-Bogey Hex is faster than anything you can come up with - as I’m sure you’ll remember.”

  

 

“Weasley,” Malfoy said in a highly irritated voice, his cheeks becoming pink slightly. “I understand that all that ginger inbreeding has stunted your intelligence, but I would recommend not talking back to the person who can easily give you detention until the Christmas break.”

 

  

Ginny felt her cheeks heat up. “You’re one to ta-”

 

 

“That’ll be 10 points for being out after curfew,” he looked at her face appraisingly and scowled, “20 for vandalizing school property, and you’ll serve detention with me tomorrow night.”

 

 

Ginny glowered at him, her mouth opening to yell just exactly where he could stuff his detention, but he cut her off like he knew what she was about to say.

 

  

“You’ve got flecks of red ink on your face, Weasley, so don’t even dare to tell me it wasn’t you who wrote those daft D.A. slogans on the walls.”

 

 

Ginny glared at the ground, embarrassed about being caught and (more than she’d like to admit) somewhat disappointed. She had thought she’d seen a change in Draco, but maybe she’d just been fooling herself into believing this to ease mortification of suddenly finding him quite fit. 

  

 

“You’re bloody lucky it was me that found you tonight, and not someone else.” He growled in a hushed voice suddenly, as he cast a glance over his shoulder. “If Filch or...or one of the Carrow’s had found you—” he stopped, unable to even finish that thought. Ginny glanced up at this and was met with the cold, penetrating glare of Malfoy’s grey eyes. Something inside her churned – maybe her inkling about Malfoy’s change of character had been right all along.

 

  

He sighed as if deeply agitated, “Well, if you’re quite done losing you house more points - I’ll escort you up to your common room to ensure you don’t go running around the castle like a disgusting house elf.”

 

  

She huffed and glared at Malfoy, but fell into step with him all the same. “I’m not afraid of the Carrows, you know,” she snapped rather viciously but found she couldn’t exactly meet his eyes as she said this. She caught his tight-lipped grimace out of the corner of her eye.

 

 

“You should be.” 

 

 

“Are you?” she asked quickly, the words flying out before she even knew what was happening. She’d always had a terrible filter.

 

  

Malfoy glared at the floor, his mouth a hard line. He quickly said no, like it was laughable to be afraid of them, but she could tell it was fake.

 

 

They walked in uncomfortable silence, and Ginny needed to walk double her already fast pace to keep up with Malfoy’s long strides. It soon became apparent though that Malfoy didn’t know where the Gryffindor common room was, as he kept heading off towards wrong passageways and stairs before Ginny would snag him back to her. What was the point of walking her back if he didn’t even know where he was going? She eyed him for what felt like the thousandth time tonight, and as she finally rounded the hallway of the Fat Lady, Ginny felt herself talking again.

 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

  

He turned to her with a confused and mildly irritated expression. “Come again? You can’t be as thick as your brother, can you? I’m wa—” 

 

 

“No,” she snapped, her nerve failing her already. “I mean why have you, you know, been helping me, I mean us... and stuff.” She stared at her shoes, her cheeks feeling hot.

 

  

“I haven’t been helping you lot.” Malfoy scoffed, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “I—it’s just that the Carrow’s...” his mouth curled in disgust, “they take it too far. They’re-- I don’t like them all right!”

 

  

He looked very uncomfortable now, colour blossoming high on his cheeks. Clearly, there was something that Malfoy didn’t want to share, not that she blamed him. He’d probably witnessed more than Ginny could even imagine.    

 

 

They were practically outside the portrait hole, and Ginny could see the Fat Lady straining to listen in to their conversation, all the while feigning sleep. “So, I suspect you’ll be telling McGonagall then about my deten—”

  

 

“Yes,” he replied, smirking finally, “you’ve committed a serious offence here, Weasley. As a Prefect, it’s my duty to report you.”

 

 

Ginny rolled her eyes, throwing him a slightly annoyed look. It was almost nice to see the remains of the Draco Malfoy she use to know, and anyway, better McGonagall than Snape or the Carrows. Everyone knew that Ginny, Neville and Luna were running the D.A. – it would have been impossible to get away with anyhow.

 

 

They were now standing right outside the portrait hole now, the Fat Lady’s fake snores ringing in her ears.

 

  

“You’re to meet me tomorrow night in the Entrance Hall after dinner for your detention,” Malfoy said coolly, eyeing the Fat Lady with great disgust. “Don’t be late.”

  

 

“Fine,” Ginny grumbled, turning away to head towards the Fat Lady.

 

 

“Weasley, wait,” he whispered, catching her elbow. She turned on her heel, heart pounding her throat once again. “You need to be more careful.”

 

  

“What do you me—”

 

 

“I mean,” he hissed, gritting his teeth, “the Castle is an extremely dangerous place to be running around fighting authority. As I said, you are lucky it was me that caught you tonight, but next time I can guarantee you, you won’t be so lucky. You’re already in trouble just by being a Weasley. Don’t give the-” he stopped himself, “ _us_ more reason to cause you harm.” 

 

  

His words hung in the air like a terrible omen. She stared up at him with what she was sure to be embarrassingly wide eyes.

 

 

He released his grip on her, stepping back like he’d been stung. “You can tell your friends that, too.” He added quickly, his pale cheeks flushing slightly again.

  

 

“Right,” she mumbled, brain scrambling for words.  
  
  
 

“Yes, well, right,” he also mumbled, straitening his posture. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  

 

“Okay,” she replied, amused now by his odd behaviour.

 

 

They stood there for a moment, Malfoy with his eyes turned to scan down the hall, and Ginny with her eyes on him, before she cleared her throat. “Malfoy,” she said in an even voice, hiding her amusement and awkward discomfort. 

 

  

“What,” he growled, eyes snapping back to her.

 

 

“I need you to leave so I can go in. You can’t hear the password or the Fat Lady will have a cow.”

  

 

“Oh,” he said, unfolding his arms from across his chest stiffly, “Yes, fine.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode down the hall.

  

 

Ginny shook her head, now allowing the grin she’d been fighting to spread across her cheeks as the Fat Lady bellowed about how she was simply big boned, and how inappropriate it was for a girl her age to be out after curfew with a boy.

 

 

  

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

 

Ginny was extremely disappointed to find as she walked through the halls to get to classes that the majority of the D.A’s work had been scrubbed away during breakfast.

 

 

The day only seemed to worsen, as Ginny, Neville and Luna were called to Professor McGonagall’s office, where they were sternly lectured on how foolish they had all been, and how irresponsible they were. 

 

 

“Mr. Malfoy has already informed me, Miss. Weasley about your detention with him this evening, and the points he had deducted, all of which I completely agreed with.” She now set her hard eyes on Neville and Luna, who’d both turned to look at Ginny at the mention of Malfoy. “30 additional points will be taken from Gryffindor, as well as 30 from Ravenclaw.”

 

 

Neville and Luna had just been handed out detentions of their own when McGonagall’s office door flew open, and Alecto Carrow burst in shrieking for justice. The day immediately improved though, as McGonagall had said in a dead tone Ginny hadn’t heard since the days of Umbridge, that all three of them had already been taken care of, and would she kindly remove herself more politely than how she had entered. Ginny couldn’t help smirking over at Alecto, who gave them all mutinous glares before slamming the door behind her.

 

 

By the end of dinner, she was in a better mood. She had shrugged off Neville’s and Luna’s questions about Malfoy, wanting to keep that exchange to herself for just a bit longer, and had been acknowledged by those who had either seen or heard about the D.A’s latest rebellion.

 

 

She couldn’t help the little tug in her stomach as she made her way toward the Entrance Hall. She’d replayed Malfoy’s words in her head that night once she’d finally made it up to her bed. Neville had been waiting for her to return, and she’d quickly made up a lie about having to avoid Peeves. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t want the others to know about her interesting exchanges with Malfoy. She didn’t think they’d understand, or even believe her. To them, all that mattered was that he had the mark on his arm. But then again, that should matter to Ginny, too, right?

 

 

Malfoy was standing by the marble staircase waiting for her. He looked tired, dark purplish circles under his eyes, and skin an unhealthy pale shade. She noticed that the fingers of his left hand looked swollen, heavily bruised, and raw. It looked quite painful. His palm securely wrapped in white gauze.

 

 

“Right, Weasley,” he snarled, jaw clenched tightly. He looked angry about something. “I’ve spoken to Professor Vector, and she’s agreed to lend us her classroom for the evening.” 

 

 

Ginny nodded silently, following Malfoy up the stairs to the seventh floor. All the way there, Malfoy kept his movement stiff, his shoulders tense and hurried. More than once, Ginny had to snap at him to slow down so she could keep up. Ginny had never been inside the Arithmancy classroom – she’d always been right rubbish at anything with numbers. It had the appearance of a smaller replication of the Charms classroom, except with dark wood panelled walls and odd looking charts and graphs covering the walls. There was a rather large looking stack of what Ginny guessed were more charts, resting in front of one of the desks. She hesitantly walked further into the room as Draco shut the door behind him with a soft click.

  

 

“You’ll be sorting through those charts,” he motioned to the ones Ginny had observed on the desk. “You need to separate them into three piles: Character, Heart, and Social.”

 

 

Ginny gave him a dead stare, and then glanced at the large pile. “What?”

 

 

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “do you know anything about Arithmancy?” Ginny shook her head, blushing. She’d heard Hermione prattle on about enough, but she’d always zoned her out.

 

 

“Sit,” he ordered, pulling some charts from the pile. Ginny begrudgingly dropped her bag to the ground and took the seat he’d pointed to, and he motioned to the first chart. “This is third-year work, so it’s pathetically easy. See the name at the top?” Ginny nodded, cheeks reddening even more. “If there is a number at the bottom of every word, then it goes in the character pile. If there are only numbers on the vowels, then it’s a heart chart, and if it’s just consonants, then it’s social. That simple enough for you, Weasley, or do I need to explain what a consonant is?”

 

 

Ginny scowled at his smirking face and tugged the chart from his hand. “I know what consonants are, Malfoy. Unlike your goonies, I can read.” 

 

 

Malfoy smirked again, “That’s an accomplishment then, considering your primitive upbringing.”

 

 

Ginny felt her entire face burn with rage, “Shut your gob, Malfoy. You’re such an arrogant arse; you know that right?”

 

 

“Careful, Weasley,” he sneered, taking a seat at the desk in front of the classroom, “you don’t want to go on using big words you don’t understand, it just makes you look foolish.” Ginny ground her teeth, fighting back words and turned to her work. The quicker she was out of here, the better. She was beginning to think she preferred mopey, angry Malfoy instead after all.

 

 

“You should hear what people say about you,” Malfoy said casually, pulling a textbook from his bag. Ginny looked up, still rather annoyed. It had been silent for several minutes, and Ginny had been hoping that would continue.

 

 

“What? That I’m a filthy blood traitor and a mudblood lover? Because trust me, I’ve more than heard that.”

 

 

Malfoy frowned, the smirk sliding from his face. “Yes, but not what I was referring to.” His face twisted into a cold sneer now, “apparently you’re quite the slag.”

 

 

“Sorry?” Ginny gasped, now flushed right to her chest. “I...what? I am not a slag, and anyway, how is my love life anyone’s business?” She couldn’t believe that she was talking about this with Draco Malfoy of all people. Her brothers hounded her enough as it was, without anyone else adding to it. And so what, she’d had a few boyfriends in the past. That didn’t mean she was boy crazy or anything. For Morgana’s sake, she’s only ever slept with one boy. That hardly made her a slag. Was it so wrong to enjoy being the center of someone’s attention? She’d grown up with six brothers, and it felt nice to be appreciated for being a girl – not to be embarrassed because she was short, wore bras or purposely made her legs smooth. 

 

 

Malfoy shrugged, turning back to his textbook. “That’s what happens when you shag and then get dumped by _The Boy Who Was Chosen_ or whatever they call him. People start to whisper.” Ginny knew that Malfoy knew exactly what the _Prophet_  called Harry, but chose not to say anything. “There’s a particularly good rumour going around saying that Terry Boot can confirm that you are, in fact, a real redhead.” 

 

 

“Of course I’m a real redhead! And I didn’t shag Harry or Terry Boot.” she snapped louder than she would have liked. She caught the slight twitch of Malfoy’s lips before he quickly looked back down at his page.

 

 

“Well,” Malfoy said, sounding almost cheery now, “your worst offence was dating Thomas, anyway.”

 

 

“Why?” Ginny was right confused now. What had Dean done to anyone? He was one of the friendliest people she knew. Or maybe this was simply because Dean was on the run as a supposed muggle-born.

 

 

“Well, the nasty rumours started when you took up with Thomas. Apparently, you broke some secret dating rule or something only teenage birds know about.”

 

 

Ginny did the first thing that came naturally to her; she laughed. “And how exactly do you know all this?” she sniggered.

 

 

He blushed now, “Pansy of course. She and Daphne Greengrass wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

 

 

“That’s ridiculous.” Ginny scoffed, “I must be a shoddy girl then because I’ve certainly never heard of anything like that.”

 

 

Malfoy gave her an appraising look, “I wouldn’t call you shoddy exactly.” Ginny watched him flush as soon as the words had left his mouth, and he quickly scowled, obviously thinking that would overshadow what he’d just said.

 

 

“Get back to work,” he snapped, his blush high on his cheeks now. “You’re in detention. This isn’t some social hour.”

 

 

“You were the one who was talking to me!” she cried, trying to wrap her head around his drastic mood swing. He ignored this and glowered at her until she huffed and returned to her tedious work.

 

 

An icy silence settled over the room, and Ginny’s mind began to wander as she aimlessly sorted charts. As angry as Malfoy’s jabs got her, she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the tug and pull of it all. There was nothing as satisfying as watching Malfoy’s face scrunch up at her oh so clever dig at whatever at the moment bothered her about him. She wondered if they had been thrown together more often when they were younger how their banter would have gone. Would he have flushed at a particular remark about Ferrets?  Or would his eyes flash with a fit of burning anger at a comment about his pathetic father kissing You-Know-Who’s arse every day?

 

 

Ginny cautioned a glance over at him and found him looking back at her with eyes brighter than she’d maybe ever seen. He quickly looked back at his work, a crease forming between his bows. He went to turn his page with his bandaged hand, and winced, pulling back. 

 

 

“Can I ask you something?” she asked softly, pillowing her chin onto the palm of her hand.

 

 

“No.”

 

 

“Malfoy...” she began threatening.

 

 

He gave a dramatic sigh, leaning back in his chair and turned his bright eyes to her. “It’s ‘may I ask you a question,’ not ‘can I ask you something.’ And okay, what is it?”

 

 

“What happened to your hand?”

 

 

He stared at her for a moment, a range of emotions flickering in his eyes before his brows furrowed. “None of your business.”

 

 

“Something to do with being a part of You-Know-Who’s posse then?”

 

 

His face paled if that were even possible. “Do you honestly expect that me to answer that?”

 

 

“No, I suppose I don’t.” She turned back to her work, wishing she’d worn a watch.

 

 

A few more silent moments passed when Malfoy voice echoed through the quiet room.

 

 

“It’s because of you.” He said, his expression hard as he stared her down across the desk.

 

 

She looked up, brows furrowed. “What?”

 

 

He rolled his eyes, “it’s not ‘what,’ Weasley, it’s ‘pardon.’ And it’s your fault that my hand is a mess.”

 

 

“Would you stop correcting me!” she snarled, her temper coiling in the bottom of her stomach like a spring. “I know how to fucking speak.”

 

 

“Just improperly then,” he said in a haughty tone.

 

 

Ginny had to bite down on her cheek to keep from hexing him blue. She scowled, “how is it my fault?”

 

 

“It seems,” he began, rearranging his expression to one of indifference. “Professor Alecto didn’t agree with your punishment.” Ginny felt her stomach lurch uncomfortably. “She thought I should have brought you to her instead. Needless to say,” he waved his hand lightly, “she wasn’t too happy with me.”

 

 

“Oh,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze. He’d been hurt for more or less, in the grand scheme of things, protecting her from the wrath of the Carrows. What was going on? Malfoy’s greatest pleasure in life was watching others get in trouble. He used to adore ratting people out.

 

 

“Why didn’t you?” her mouth felt dry. She tried swallowing, but nothing happened. She’d wanted to know this from the moment Malfoy had left her at the Fat Lady. There had to more because this just wasn’t like Malfoy.

 

 

“I already told you,” he snapped, “I don’t like the Carrows.”

 

 

“But why? I want the truth this time, Malfoy.” She’d always use to think she’d been quite good at reading people, but she couldn’t now. “I know the Carrows are generally repulsive, but you seem to hate them as much as I do, and that just doesn’t make sense. I mean, you’re all Death Eaters, doesn’t that automat-”

 

 

“Don’t compare me to them!” he snarled, his face contorting in disgust. “I am _nothing_  like them.”

 

 

“Then what are you?”

 

 

They stared at each other for a moment - Ginny with her heart thudding painfully hard in her chest, and Malfoy with his eyes wide and bright before he broke away. 

 

 

“Who says I have to be anything?” he bit out, looking agitated. “Is it so wrong to just want to be left alone?” 

 

 

Ginny felt anger surge through her. She had to kick and scream even to be acknowledged by the Order, and here Malfoy was with the power to fight, and he didn’t want it. “That’s pathetic, Malfoy. It’s a war – You either sympathize with You-Know-Who’s efforts, or you don’t.”

 

 

“You wouldn’t understand,” he said, his voicing levelling out, getting eerily quieter the angrier he got, his eyes a steely grey. “Your dopey parents would probably accept you even if you told them you wanted to live with Trolls. I come from two extremely distinguished wizarding families, where status and power are weighed more than personal happiness. There was no other option. It was an honour to be entrusted into a group my father respected so much.”

 

 

Ginny could imagine from her experience at Twelve Grimmauld Place, and from knowing Sirius, what precisely the ‘Noble House of Black’ was like.

 

 

There was a manic expression on Draco’s face now like he was bursting at the seams. “I wasn’t brought up like you were, Weasley. That muggles are our friends and that we should love everyone and all that rubbish. My whole life I’ve been taught that muggles are dirt that pollutes wizarding blood, and that money and power and your social standings are the things to look for in other wizarding families.”

 

 

Ginny’s nose wrinkled in disgust. 

 

 

“You can judge me all you want, Weasley, but you’re the same way.” He looked flushed again, “you never once questioned your parent’s beliefs, or thought they were wrong. I know my father’s made some...questionable  _choices_ ,” Yeah like setting her up to be possessed and killed by his Master, she thought bitterly. “But when he was sentenced to Azkaban, I knew I had to salvage the Malfoy name and make my family proud.”

 

 

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing loose strands from his face in a frustrated manner (clearly his day’s worth of Sleek-EZ had worn off). It was a rather fetching hair cut if she was honest. It reminded her of the hairstyles seen on a poster Hermione had on her bedroom wall of a muggle boy band called _Grab That_  or something along those lines. She couldn’t help admiring him at that moment – her eyes lingering on the white skin that stretched over the sharp angle of his jaw, and slightly pointed, yet still elegant features of his cheeks and nose. His once almost effeminate looks had hardened and thinned.

 

 

“This isn’t what I thought it would all be like.” He mumbled softly, bruised knuckles flexing.

 

 

“What,” Ginny scoffed, rolling her eyes, “is being one of You-Know-Who’s little house elves not as much fun as you thought it would be?”

 

 

“You wouldn’t be making jokes if you knew what he was like.” He said darkly, “Stories from your ex-boyfriend don’t even begin to count. Not really.”

 

Goose flesh erupted across Ginny’s skin. She couldn’t believe how open Malfoy had been with her. He was practically candid at times. She wondered if maybe she was the first person ever to hear these thoughts and fears. She stared at him for what felt like a lifetime and a second all in one. Then he glanced back over at her, and her head quickly shot down to her work. Her head felt like it was filled with loose pixies – her thoughts going a thousand places at once. She was disgusted by his idolization of his father, yet at the same time strangely understood him. Repulsed by his allegiance with You-Know-Who, and yet still sympathetic to his reluctance to take part in the actions and behaviours of others branded like him. Was he a bad guy? All the signs pointed to yes, but he’d been purposely saving her from the Carrows time and time again and got no pleasure in causing others harm. Was he really just a boy who had made foolish choices, and was now caught in a dangerous situation?

 

 

“You’re excused.” He said, pulling her from her thoughts. “I’m exhausted and don’t want to sit here anymore, so you’re free to go.”

 

 

“Oh,” Ginny said slowly, snapping back into action. “Uh, what about the charts?”

 

 

He got up, rubbing his injured hand, “They’re good enough. I expect they’ll get finished tomorrow anyway. I’m bound to catch a few fourth years with your blasted brothers banned joke products again.”

 

 

She smiled at this, grabbing her bag from the ground. She waited by the door as Malfoy packed away his things, and then together they made their way into the corridor. The torches flickered as a cool breeze blew through. With the door locked behind him, Malfoy looked down at his watch and swore under his breath. Ginny gave him a look, and he shook his head. “I’ll walk you back. It’s after nine.”

 

 

Ginny went to speak, but from the look on his face, he was not to be argued with, so she shrugged and allowed him to escort her down the corridor towards the Gryffindor Tower.  


 

  
“I should say,” Malfoy began, “if you mention to a single soul about what was spoken about earlier, I’ll make you wish you could swap lives with Filch’s pants.”

 

 

Ginny almost gagged at the mere thought of it. “No one would believe me even if I did tell them.”

 

 

His lips turned up slightly like he was trying to suppress a smirk. She wondered fleetingly how they’d taste.

 

 

She chanced a glance, blushing when she met his eyes looking back at her. “For what it’s worth,” she mumbled, “I’m sorry about your hand.”

 

 

He shrugged, “it’s not so bad now. The curse went up to over my shoulder blade originally. Madam Pomfrey said it should be all gone by tomorrow.” He gave a grim looking smirk now, “it was a right bugger to handle my wand in Charms today though.” 

 

 

“My mum says left-handed people are more independent because they live in a world not made for them.” At the pointed look on his face, Ginny smiled. “My brother Charlie is left-handed, too.” She added, giving him a small grin.

 

 

“Well that’s an...” he pursed his lips, “interesting theory to say the least.”

 

 

Ginny rolled her eyes, sighing. “Yeah, well Mum’s filled with all sorts of theories, many of them centred on why I can’t seem to act like a young lady.” She flushed as soon as the words left her mouth, quickly curtaining her face with her hair. Merlin’s knobby knees, could she sound any more stupid?

 

 

Malfoy smirked, eyes strained like he was on watch for something. “You’d look ridiculous if you acted like a lady. You’d be like every other female I know.” He turned his gaze back to her - his eyes darker in the dim torchlight. “You’re better just as you are.” She threw her gaze up to him, and he blanked. “I mean,” he said hastily, “for a Weasley, ladylike must simply be cleanliness.”

 

 

It would have been a hurtful dig, but something in the way he said it, with a tilted smirk made her think it was less meant to hurt, and more intended as an almost playfully taunt.

 

 

“You never did tell me why you hate the Carrows.” She said, suddenly feeling brave.

  

 

He frowned, eyes peering off into the distance. “There’s not much to say really. They think they can push me around because of how the Dar-” he paused casting an eye at her to gauge her reaction. “You-Know-Who treats my family. They’re revolting lumps of flesh,” he snarled darkly. “But they’re pigmy puffs compared to the likes of my aunt Bella and her friends, so I keep my mouth shut and try to stay under their radar.”

 

 

They fell quiet again. Ginny scuffed her shoe along the stone floor and tried to stop from blushing. She threw a glance over at Malfoy again – he looked like he was deeply conflicted about something, his mouth scrunched and eyes squinted.

 

 

And then he looked at her.

 

 

She knew that look – was more than familiar with it actually. The way his eyes fell on her lips, before flickering back to meet her eye. She’d seen it on Michael when he’d spilt punch on her dress robes at the Yule Ball. Had seen it on Dean – on Harry, but it— and then it hit her like the Knight Bus on impact.  Ginny practically stumbled over her feet, her eyes widening as Malfoy flushed and looked away with a heavy scowl pulling down all his features.

 

 

He wanted to kiss her.

 

 

“Look, Weasley, there’s no easy way to put this.” He looked extremely uncomfortable, rubbing at his cursed hand. “There’s a trip to Hogsmeade next Saturday, and it’s obvious I can’t be seen with you under normal circumstances,” he ran a hand through his hair again. “But I was thinking that if anyone asked I could say there was a suspected D.A meeting happening that day, and that I was keeping an eye on you. Then we could be seen at the Two Broom Sticks together without it looking suspicious.”

 

 

“I can’t.” They were almost back at the Fat Lady again. She felt a deep pang of guilt and regret as Malfoy’s face twisted into a dark scowl. “I’m not allowed. I got banned from Hogsmeade visits after the sword thing.”

 

 

“Oh. Right, then.” He said, colour high on his cheeks again. 

 

 

“Yeah.”  She replied, shifting her weight from hip to hip. Once again they stood outside the Fat Lady in awkward silence. It felt like a twisted déjà vu.

 

 

They both looked around, unsure of what to say. “Well, I guess good night then, Weasley.” Malfoy finally choked out. He gave her once last peculiar look before he turned on his heel.

 

 

As she watched him go, a sense of dread came over her. Would they ever get the opportunity to speak like this again? Would he even want to after she’d turned him down?  Before her brain could catch up, she was sprinting after him.  


 

  
“Draco,” she called, feeling a little thrill go up her spine at saying his name for the first time. He gave her a confused look as he turned, and before she could lose her nerve, she pushed herself up onto the balls of her feet and pressed her lips against his as her arms wrapped around his neck.

 

 

Somewhere she was a sure her father was having a heart attack for reasons that couldn’t be explained.

 

 

His rather clumsy lips were cold and chapped against her, and when she pulled away, he stared at her in stunned silence.

 

 

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

 

 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, flushing right down to her knee caps, she was sure. “I just thought since you asked me to Hogsmeade and st-”

 

 

“I wasn’t ready.” He snapped, looking rather flushed himself. “You caught me off guard. You can’t just try to snog someone, without giving them a little warning!”

 

 

“What did you want me to say, ‘I’m about to kiss you, so stop what you’re doing and be prepared.’” 

 

 

“No,” he replied quickly, embarrassed now. “I—fuck, would you just let me properly kiss you this time?” 

 

 

This time when they met, it was different. Ginny parted her lips, hands in the fabric of Malfoy's robe as his good hand cupped her face and his tongue traced the swell of her bottom lip. The hand that had been cupping her face was now slipping to the back of her head to keep her locked on his kiss. She brought her own hands up again, one around his neck and the other sliding over the soft strands of hair at the back of his head. The hand around her waist went up and down her back, pulling her even closer. She got on the tip of her toes, using his neck as leverage as they met with more force.

 

 

Her mother would surely never call her a lady if she saw her now. She didn’t care. As long as Malf-- _Draco_  kept snogging her like this, she didn’t care about anything ever again.

 

 

She was definitely in trouble now.

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

She shook her hand as she choked back tears that she refused to shed. Neville sat a few seats away from her, the sound of his quill scratching away coupled by the occasional hiss of pain.

 

 

Either Alecto got a fancy Christmas gift from a particular friend at the Ministry, or she’d been holding out on them all first semester. Ginny’s betting the first one.

 

 

She looked at her parchment again. There in her blood read _Mudbloods are filth_ more times than she could remember writing.

 

 

Neville and Ginny had been caught wearing big muggle hats, mitts and scarves, which Luna had knit for both of them for Christmas, before her disappearance. Ginny could still barely think about Luna without breaking down. For all they knew she was dead. It had been two months now with no word about her from anyone, and Ginny and Neville weren’t thick enough to think that Luna was still okay.

 

 

But it only made her more determined. She would fight for Luna now. She and Neville both would.

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

“Please, Ginny, just stop it. There’s nothing more you can do.” Draco pleaded, lowering his voice as another student walked past the aisle they were in. “They’re just looking for reasons to get you and your family. You need to be more careful. I mean – look—look what happened to that Lovegood friend of yours.”

 

 

“Draco, stop okay? I know what I’m doing.”  He didn’t look convinced.

 

 

He’d been like this ever since their return at the beginning of the second term. Always at her to stop - to be careful - more subtle. He seemed almost frenzied. He hardly ate, and the dark circles under his eyes had become a permanent feature.

 

 

She hated when he got like this. She wanted the way things typically were, where they laughed and joked. She desperately wanted to help him but didn’t know how, or if he’d even let her. Neither had been sure how to go about what had passed between them. She wasn’t waiting for Harry, she knew this, but it just didn’t seem right to rush into romance again, when there were so many terrible things happening around them. Half of her had wanted to forget it – chalk it up to nothing more than her simply feeling lonely. But then she’d think about his cool lips or his brooding eyes, and she’d know it wasn’t loneliness that brought them together.

 

 

“You and Longbottom are going to get caught for real one of these times,” he said, leaning against a shelf. “There are only two weeks until Easter Break – just hold out until then.”

 

 

“Really Draco,” she said, leaning in for a kiss when the coast was clear. “You worry about me so much. I fear your hair might turn white.”

 

 

Draco just rolled his eyes.

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

There was mayhem the next time she saw him. If she had known that day in the Library would be the last time she’d see him for almost two months, she would have done something more. She’d never admit just how much she missed him, but with him standing in front of her, it was all she could do not to throw her arms around him.

 

 

“Ginny,” he clutched her arm now, already covered in soot. “When this is all over, and if we’re still alive, promise me you won’t hate me.”

 

 

His eyes were so bright then. The bluest she’d ever seen them. “I promise.” She said as the ground quaked beneath them.

 

 

He pulled her tight to him. Hands and arms were wrapping around her to keep her safe. “I’m sorry I can’t be more like you.”

 

 

She pushed up onto her toes and kissed him one last time, taking in all of him as a memory. “I’ll see you when this is all over, okay.” She said, hands cupped around his face. “And then you can introduce me to your mother.”

 

 

He laughed, kissing her again and nodded. “Sounds like hell.”

 

 

She smiled, they parted, and she ran into the crowd.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Original Prompt: 
> 
> Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic: I'd like something that could have occurred in canon during their Hogwarts years (seventh/eighth year (for Draco) is fine, showing a progression of their relationship. The mention of a bat-boogey hex.  
> The tone/mood of the fic: Nothing too dark/angsty. A bit of humour is welcome.  
> An element/line of dialogue/object you would specifically like in your  
> fic: "I would always hesitate to recommend as a life's companion a young lady with quite such a vivid shade of red hair. Red hair, sir, in my opinion, is dangerous." (By Jeeves in 'Very Good, Jeeves') It doesn't need to be in the fic, but having the gist of the quote would be nice.  
> Preferred rating of the fic you want: Any.  
> Canon or AU?: Canon, bar the epilogue.  
> Deal Breakers: (anything you don't want?): Too OOC characters, especially Draco. Established relationship.


End file.
